Out of Many, One
by whenhesaidrosetyler
Summary: At a young age, Aria was forced from her home on the order of King Uther. Now, she is forced to come back. But Camelot is no longer where Aria believes she belongs. Out of the many things that happen to her on her journey to accept Camelot as her home once again, what is the one thing that makes her want to stay? Family? Magic? Merlin.
1. The Meaning of Words Unsaid

The Meaning of Words Unsaid

Diera didn't have a solid boarder between it an Camelot. It was a small kingdom south of the Maze of Gedred. Someone traveling from Diera would have to cross two different kingdoms to enter Camelot. This means, of course, that there is no climactic and emotional moment of stepping across the boarder from your home, to the place you never wanted to see again. If it were truly up to Aria, she would not have come.

So as Aria continued north towards the famous gates of Camelot, with no idea of who or what to expect, the reality of what she was doing hadn't set in. The fact that she had left everything that she had ever loved behind her didn't hit her. That is, until she saw the Citadel.

The towering spires and high walls of Castle Camelot were said to be the only place in the Five Kingdoms that had never been overtaken. It was supposed to be a sanctuary. To be safe. In that moment, though, Aria had never been more afraid.

The Citadel was impenetrable, and it was equally as inescapable. None conquered it, and none left. If Aria's plan failed there was no leaving that place ever again. She began to imagine what it'd be like to spend her life in that castle rotting away. The fear was already pulsating through her began to wither away all the remaining strength and willpower she had left.

Aria's once steady pace slowly trickled into nothing until she stood stock still in her tracks. She had thought that coming here was a good idea. At the time Aria believed that her plan was clever, but now she understood why people ran away from their fears. There was no other place in the world that Aria feared or loathed more than Camelot, but it was precisely those feelings that made it so unlikely for her to take shelter within its city walls.

The knights and guards of Diera who undoubtedly would be sent to pursue Aria would know of her grudge against Camelot's king and of where she would be sent when she was caught. Camelot is the last place in the world she could ever call her home, so it was also the last place she would be looked for.

Despite all plans and logic, Aria still stood motionless. She had been born in Camelot, but it had been a very long time since Aria had called the city her home. Her last memory of this kingdom was a painful one. She was only a child when she was sent away, no older than nine when she was torn away from all she knew. Now, almost ten years later, Aria faced the walls of Camelot once again, and she remembered things she wanted to forget.

_The knock on her door rang sharp and clear. There was a guard behind it and he was to take Aria away. She had been given two days to pack her things and to say goodbye. She had packed nothing and said goodbye to no one. Aria had spent her two days either crying in her room or pleading to her father to let her stay._

_She did not want to leave, she was only a child, and the thought of being separated from all she knew petrified her. Aria's green eyes had not dried once in those two days, but on this third day her small face was set in a mask of maturity and indifference. This was the face of someone far beyond the nine and a half years of this child. It was the face of someone who had been forced to grow up because of one mistake. _

_The grip on her shoulder was not tight, Aria could have run at any moment as she was lead away from Camelot, but she didn't. She was no longer wanted there, and she knew that. _  
_Her father stood only a short distance away, he watched his small daughter being lead away without a word to stop it. He showed no emotion, made no move to say goodbye, and did not seem to care whatsoever about the small blonde girl that had his eyes. When those eyes turned on him to wordlessly beg him one more time to let her stay, he turned away. Aria had spent her whole life believing her father didn't love her, but this was her proof._

Aria wanted nothing more than to turn and run away from Camelot once again, but another memory crept upon her. The boy with blonde hair and blue eyes that stood behind their father and was left standing alone as her father walked away. Whose face was not hidden behind the same mask of indifference as Aria. Aria remembered him. She took one step towards Camelot.


	2. Voices and Faces in Unwanted Places

sorry about the long update! tried to write it out on my phone, but the universe decided it hated me and erased everything i had down. THREE TIMES. yeah, well please forgive. also sorry if this chapter isnt great but i hope you like it.

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The one step lead to _one more, _then _just a little further, _until Aria stood in **The Rising Sun Inn**, buying room for the next fortnight.

No introductions were made between the innkeeper and herself. She just gave him the gold, he gave her the key and asked if she expected visitors. She did not.

As Aria headed toward the room the man said was hers ( albeit temporarily), she could not help but to feel some relief that the innkeeper had not said much. She was glad, not only that he had not asked for her name, but in turn not given his.

The innkeeper could now stay in her mind as only a vague man, who had given his name nor any indication of a personality what so ever. Aria had nothing to remember him by, and for that, she silently thanked him.

Aria intended to keep Camelot as nothing to her, and getting to know it's citizens was not something Aria desired. It would only make distancing herself from the city hard. So for as long as she stayed in Camelot, Aria had no desire on becoming acquainted with it's people. _No matter what, _Aria added to herself.

On the same No Attachment line of thinking, Aria was contented to see that she had a plain room. It was small and had one window facing a bland view of a muddy back street with shutters that Aria doubted latched close. Under the sill lay an old cupboard, that Aria thought _No doubt infested with moths._ The bed was little more than a compressed and stained straw mattress that lay atop of an unstable wooden base that seemed to be held together with nothing more than two rusted nails.

A good thing about the room was that the small size of it almost guaranteed Aria a roommate-free living arrangement. Also, the open window wouldn't be much of a problem seeing as aria always slept with an open window. Even if the room was not bad overall, Aria knew she would never sleep well in Camelot. She would never allow herself to.

Aria removed the burden of her pack from her shoulders and lay it on the bed, the weight of it making the frame croak out a protest. The pack had about five days of food in it, a week if Aria stretched it a bit. The minute amount of coin left after renting the room had Aria vying for the latter option.

Aria knew that she would have to use her remaining coin sparingly if her plan ended up being extended. She looked down disparagingly, her pinched and blistered feet hidden in the far too small pair of boots she had accidentally grabbed in haste.

Aria needed to find paid work soon. She contemplated the thought; the idea of becoming a servant in the castle was immediately dismissed. There was a possibility that there was work in the town, but that could lead to more exposure than she wanted. Maybe if she could find just a few odd jobs here and there, Aria might be able to gather just enough coin to afford a proper pair of footwear.

That sounded well enough to Aria. It was decided then, she would start looking tomorrow morning.

Aria looked at her feet again and felt every blister throb to her heartbeat. The trip had been long and far, and with every moment the straw mattress was steadily looking more and more like an oasis.

Aria removed her pack from the bed to sit, not bothering just yet to put it in the cupboard. She began to slowly and surgically remove her boots.

Aria rested against the one pillow and her eyes suddenly stuck together, feeling a million pounds. Aria knew that there was no staying vigilant through this night, as she had the past ones on the run. She was so weary from her travels, that she had no strength to care about much else for the rest of the night. For the next few hours at least, Aria would rest in Camelot, no matter how uneasy that thought made her feel.

That feeling at the pit of her stomach created a voice her her head. That voice told her to _stay awake, stay aware!_ But it was futile, there was nothing Aria could do to keep the exhaustion away any longer, and the voice faded into nothing but a hazy buzz. Aria feel asleep only moments after her eyes closed.

With all voices of reason swept away though the broken shutters, Aria slept through the night and dreamed of voices she used to know and love. These whispered memories in Aria's mind filled Aria's heart with a sad longing like nostalgia.

All this was swept away as well, when the light of dawn swam through Aria's closed eyelids and woke her up hours later.

The dull throb of her blisters were now overshadowed by the stretched ache of her lower body. The long journey across three kingdoms with little to no rest left Aria's legs little more than sore muscle.

The pain had to be forgotten, though, because Aria had more important things to focus on. For example, her attire.

Aria did not believe herself to be vain. She thought there was no importance to her appearance, and put no thought towards the people who believed they were better than her because they wore more expensive clothing. Being the best dressed in the room was never on her priority list, and she usually didn't care two cents about what she looked like to others.

However, something very important to her as of late was a low profile. If Aria wished to remain anonymous while in Camelot, she had to blend.

The men's trousers she currently wore, that were stained with six inches of dry dirt starting from the hem up, would do nothing but make Aria stick out. Which meant that she would have to wear a dress for all the foreseeable future in Camelot.

Ignoring the smart pain that shot through her legs, Aria stood up and outfitted herself in a plain dress she dug out of her pack. Hopefully it would do the trick and camouflage Aria into the crowd.

Her previous reservations about being noticed slowly but surely melted. No one in Camelot seemed to give her any second thought as she walked about the market place. Everybody was busy doing this or that, and overall, too lost in their own lives to care about anyone else's.

Aria talked to several people about any odd job they might need done, and received a few silver pieces from the ones who did. The jobs were small enough and the people distracted enough, that Aria had no doubt the would forget her face by the next morning. Anyone in this town that may be questioned on a woman named Aria would know nothing. Especially because anyone in this town that had asked for her name, had been given a false one.

Several hours later Aria walked into The Rising Sun Inn wearing a pair of leather boots that fit her perfectly. Upon entering, she notices two things: one, the innkeeper was busy talking to a man Aria assumed to be a customer, two, they looked like they were discussing something important.

Aria was curious about why these two men bowed their heads and looked as though they were speaking of something of such importance. There was no reason for Aria to want to know. But, a very nasty and long held habit of Aria's was spying. So she stepped softly into the shadows.

For about as as long as her memory went, Aria always found herself a nosy person. She would listen through walls, look through keyholes, and most commonly, eavesdrop from the was a terrible habit, and if ever caught she would most likely learn that lesson, but unfortunately she never was. So the habit continued.

Calling what she was doing _observing, _Aria stepped as close to the men as the shadowed stairs allowed. The man speaking to the innkeeper was elderly, and seemed to be the one doing the most talking. He wore robes that covered the rest of his clothing and had a satchel that hung from his shoulder.

A small spark of recognition lit in Aria, but for the life of her she couldn't place it. She could only see some of his face and that was partly hidden behind his longer hair.

The same curiosity that lead her to looking in the first place now pushed Aria into getting a better view of the man. With a half thought out reason for speaking to the innkeeper, she approached the desk and stepped out from her dark corner.

When Aria was close enough to them that she could clearly hear the men's voices, the small nagging feeling of recognition hit her once again.

"It doesn't taste a whole lot better than swamp water, but it'll do the job just fine I believe," The elder man said. The innkeeper nodded solemnly, looking the part of a the little boy who was told to take his medicine.

Medicine.

Aria suddenly knew exactly who this man was. It was the court physician in Camelot. It was Gaius. Aria was swept by old memories she believed lost long ago. Memories of the old man that was always there for those who needed him. For every scrap, scratch, bump, and bruise, it was Gaius that fixed it.

Aria suddenly wished to be anywhere else in the world. No matter how irrational the fear may be, or how long ago they last saw each other, Aria still remembered the man's quick mind and knowing eyes. Even if her father himself saw her now, he would not recognize Aria. But Gaius would.

There was no time for her to flee, no move she could make at this point that wouldn't bring attention to her. She was close enough to reach out and touch the two men at the desk. Any plan of escape was futile.

Gaius turned. He looked directly at Aria, the recognition in his eyes said everything.


End file.
